The boy, Zhong, remained slumped against the tree, his breathing ragged. His once-radiant aura had all but vanished, leaving only a faint glimmer around him.
Sun turned his attention to the old man, his cold gaze studying every detail of his demeanor. The elder was calm, unnervingly so, as though the scene before him was nothing but a trivial skirmish.
"What do you mean by 'his tale'?" Sun asked, his voice cutting through the tense silence.
The old man chuckled softly, taking a leisurely sip from his flask. "You don't even know, do you? Strange, for someone as strong as you to walk this land without such knowledge."
Sun's brow furrowed. He hated enigmas, especially when they came from men who smiled as if they held all the answers.
"Explain." His tone carried an edge of finality.
The old man sighed, shaking his head. "Not here. Follow me to the school. If you truly wish to learn, then this will be your first lesson."
Zhong stirred at the elder's words, attempting to push himself up, but the internal injuries Sun had inflicted made his movements sluggish. The elder gave him a glance, his expression softening.
"Rest, boy. You've done well enough."
With that, the old man turned and began walking down the dirt path that led deeper into the village. Sun hesitated briefly, glancing back at the villagers who now peered out from their homes with a mix of fear and curiosity. Muttering under his breath, he followed.
The path led to a modest building of polished wood, its gates adorned with intricate carvings depicting fierce battles and moments of serenity. A large courtyard stretched beyond the entrance, where disciples of various ages practiced forms with disciplined focus.
The old man gestured for Sun to enter, leading him to a shaded pavilion at the edge of the courtyard. He settled onto a wooden bench, gesturing for Sun to do the same.
"You've already seen part of it," the old man began, leaning back as he took another sip. "A tale is not merely a story. It's a mark carved upon the soul, a thread of fate woven by your deeds, your victories, and the legends you create. Every living being in Leindell carries one, though most are mundane—unremarkable. Yours, however…" He paused, his gaze sharpening. "…is something else entirely."
Sun remained silent, digesting the information. It aligned with what little he had observed of this world. The boy's unusual strength, the way his moves countered Sun's techniques perfectly—it wasn't natural.
"What happens when a tale is broken?" Sun asked, recalling the old man's earlier words.
The old man's expression darkened. "When a tale is broken, its power shatters. The bearer is left weakened, perhaps permanently, depending on the tale's strength. Zhong, for example, carried a rare tale: Martial Art Conqueror. It allowed him to see and exploit the flaws in any martial art, as you no doubt noticed."
Sun recalled the precision with which the boy had dismantled his attacks. His techniques, honed through decades of practice and refined to perfection, had been rendered ineffective as though they were amateurish. Though if he had started with his Complete martial arts then the boy would've no doubt be unable to counter.
"But now…" The old man sighed. "The tale is gone. You crushed it with that final strike."
Sun's expression remained impassive, though his mind raced. Tales, power, fate—this was a system he hadn't encountered before, and it intrigued him.
"How do I know the effects of a tale?" Sun asked as he analysed the words of the old man.
"It's related to how you achieved the tale, some people may have tales and never know of its effects there isn't exactly a guide book either. Take Zhong's tale for example it was achieved by winning consecutively against Martial artists of different schools the more he defeats the stronger the tale becomes but at the end of the day it's only a rare tale; because tens of thousands of other individuals have achieved it." The old man said as he looked inside his flask searching for droplets of beer.
"And my tale?" he asked.
The old man chuckled again. "Oh, I don't need to see it to know it's monstrous. I felt it the moment you stepped into this village, before you even lifted a finger. A tale like yours… It exudes so much pressure that even a mundane person will feel it… and you aren't exactly hiding it either."
Sun leaned forward slightly, his gaze intense. "Then tell me what it is."
The elder met his eyes, holding his gaze. "I cannot see it clearly. But I suspect you already know its essence. Think of your biggest feats; that would be your tale and judging that you reek of divine power I would assume you faced a god and survived."
Sun's lips curled into a faint smirk, though his eyes betrayed no amusement. "So what if I have?"
The elder leaned back, closing his eyes briefly. "Then perhaps you've earned it—a tale that even the Sovereigns fear."
Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of footsteps. Zhong approached, his posture unsteady but determined. He bowed deeply to the old man before turning to Sun.
"I… apologize," Zhong said through gritted teeth. "For assuming you were just another bandit. You're… far more than that."
Sun didn't respond, merely studying the boy. His determination was admirable, if nothing else.
"Master," Zhong continued, addressing the old man, "Will he be staying with us?"
The old man nodded. "Indeed. And I expect you to learn from him."
Zhong's eyes widened. "But—!"
"No buts," the old man interrupted, his tone firm. "This is an opportunity for both of you. He may not be a soul from this world, but his skill is undeniable. And you, Zhong, must rebuild yourself from this setback. Your story isn't over yet."
Zhong clenched his fists, frustration clear on his face, but he bowed once more. "Yes, Master."
The old man turned back to Sun. "If you're truly here to learn, then stay. Train. Our martial arts may not be as refined as what you've already mastered, but they carry the essence of this world's power. You might even discover something new."
Sun didn't mind the fact that the old man knew of his secret and considered the offer. He had no intention of staying long, but the offer of learning new techniques and gaining insight into this world's unique system was tempting.
"Fine," he said at last. "But don't waste my time."
The old man smiled knowingly. "Oh, I assure you, it won't be wasted."
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the village, Sun watched the disciples in the courtyard. Their movements were precise, their focus unyielding. For the first time in years, he felt the stirrings of something unfamiliar.
Not excitement. Not curiosity.
Anticipation.
"I can feel it… the peak of this world should provide a much better view." Sun said with a smile.